Puck’s Property by Monique Moreau
ChapterFive
Puck was back in his regular cell. Thank fuck. After almost five days with only his mind and a Bible in a six-by-eight-foot solitary cell, he was about to lose his damn mind. Baring his gritted teeth, he shuddered at the memory of the walls closing in on him. Nah, he was pretty sure he had lost his damn mind. Kingdom, his president, and his old lady, Sage, who was Puck’s lawyer, kept a careful eye on him. Or as much as was possible from the outside. They were most likely the reason he was already back in with gen pop. Pregnant or not, Sage worked relentlessly for him and Whistle.
It’d been hell, but it wasn’t like he’d had much of a choice. For a new inmate like him, a fight was inevitable. The only question was when it was going to go down.
Puck had spent most of the mind-numbing hours focused on Ava, daydreaming about her and…plotting. Hey, it was better than going insane, worrying about how Sammi was holding up, or how he was going to get out of this fuckhole. Lying on the top bunk, over the threadbare piece of cloth the county passed off as a blanket, Puck hung one ankle over the other and went over his plan. There was no doubt in his mind that this was more than a coincidence. They’d lived in the same small city in New York for eight years and never crossed paths. And their paths could’ve crossed because her father was in the Renegades MC. Although not a real club like the Squad, there weren’t that many bikers in this city. They tended to overlap.
But it happened after enough time had passed and they’d both matured. Their stars were finally aligned, and Puck was determined to have her again. Tomorrow, he had an appointment with Sage before his preliminary hearing with Judge Korman. Dumbass that he was, he’d opened his big mouth and answered the arresting officer’s questions in the cop car. His confession was due to the adrenaline rush from taking down Kerri’s abusive ex. His misstep had cost him big because it supplied Korman with enough evidence to go ahead with a grand jury.
Puck shut his eyes. Since he was likely stuck in jail for a good amount of time, he’d convince Sage to get him seen by the social worker. Lucky for him there was only one, and her name was Ava. Once he was alone with her behind closed doors, he’d set his plan into motion.
There was a scuffing of shoes by his door. Eyes snapping open, Puck rolled onto his side. Whistle poked his head in.
“Hey, brother,” he called out to the youngster. “They let you out, too?”
Whistle stepped inside the small space, circled around the open toilet, and jumped up on his bunk bed. Puck moved his long legs, clasped Whistle’s hand and gave him a gruff hug.
“Whattup? You go crazy in there after a few days, or what?” asked Whistle with a chuckle.
“Mad-dog crazy. Fuck, the echoes alone can drive a man insane.”
“Yeah,” Whistle replied. “Good to see you back, brah. I’ve got my preliminary hearing later today. Sage thinks I’ll get bail this time around.”
“Good, I can’t have you around me. You’re too fuckin’ tempting for the motherfuckers up in here.”
Whistle’s gave him a lopsided grin. “You’re jealous, is all.”
“Yeah, that’s it,” he scoffed and smacked him lightly on the side of his head. Whistle had started hanging out at the club at the age of seventeen, although Prez, the president of the Squad at the time, decreed he couldn’t prospect until he was legal. Along with Prez, Puck had adopted Whistle.
“Appreciate what you did for me, getting your ass thrown in here to check up on me. Don’t do it again, though. I need you on the outside. The Box is the hottest spot for MMA fighters, and Loki’s being run ragged, especially with Abby pregnant.” He scratched the growing scruff of his chin. “Cutter was splitting his time between the Squad Bar and the Box, but he was put full-time on the Box. That leaves me alone with the bar, and I was charged with figuring out how to make the place pull in a profit. You need to move in there because some underhanded shit is goin’ on. Live and breathe that fucking place. I need you to do the dreaded liquor inventory. How much stock we have at the beginning of inventory, how much stock we have at the end, and how much stock we receive in between. Not sure if someone’s stealing or giving out product for free, but I kid you fucking not, we ran out of Hennessey.”
“Someone’s stealin’,” said Whistle with a sage nod of his head.
“Can’t jump to any conclusions when we don’t have an inventory usage report, can we? It’s the most popular alcohol we serve. I want your eyes open and everywhere, Whistle. The Squad can’t afford to carry a whale like that for long. Babies are poppin’ out of two old ladies within the year. That makes their men nervous. They want to know they can provide for their families. We gotta hustle and make money.”
“Sure thing, boss man.”
“And you need to settle down,” Puck continued, firming up his tone.
Eyes wide, Whistle pulled back. “Whaaat?”
“You heard me. You’re too fuckin’ wild. How old are you now?”
“Twenty-one, goin’ on twenty-two.”
Puck grimaced. “Yeah, too fuckin’ old to be pulling this shit anymore. At twenty-one years old, I was saving for a down payment on a house. Going to fuckin’ parent-teacher conferences for Sammi. I kid you not, motherfucker. You buy yourself a sleeping bag or borrow Loki’s roll-up bed since he doesn’t use it anymore, and camp out at the bar. Ask Loki how to do inventory, take a class online, I don’t care fuck-all what you gotta do. Do it and figure out why we’re bleeding cash like a gutted heifer.”
“Fucking hell, Puck.”
“Don’t curse at me. I’m the one stuck in here, twiddling my fucking thumbs while the world is going about its business. I’m charging you with a job. You find out something, you come here and tell me. Unless it’s an emergency. Then, you hit up Kingdom. Hear me?”
“Yeah,” Whistle grumbled.
“You’ve been living the high life. Crashing at the club is fine, fucking bitches is normal, but you’ve got to do something with yourself, yo. You won’t be so quick to get your ass back in here if you have goals. I’ve fucked around like you, but I always had my eyes on a prize.”
“Count Time,” was bellowed out into the common area outside their cells. Whistle slipped off the top bunk and landed on his feet. He stepped aside for Puck to join him on the floor, and they walked out of his cell. Each took a side of the entrance, backs to the wall, as the CO strolled down past the cells with clipboard in hand.
